


when our fingers touch

by mayj



Category: lesbian - Fandom
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Marijuana, No Lesbians Die, Porn with Feelings, Recreational Drug Use, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayj/pseuds/mayj
Summary: Enrica and Day have been best friends for about six months, always on the edge of dating. Suddenly, their passion for one another comes out.
Kudos: 6





	when our fingers touch

I inhaled, and the weed burnt my throat. My coughs started there and creeped down until my stomach began to lurch. I gulped ice water to tame the nausea.  
“You good?” Enrica asked me underneath a couple of short coughs as she took her own hit. I nodded, eyes closed, trying to ignore the burning in my lungs. The weed began to set it.  
Enrica passed the joint back to me, and I took one more hit. “That’s it,” I told her. “When you’re done, put it out.”  
She cocked her head. “You only had two little hits, though. You sure?”  
“Yeah.” I knew from experience that less was more, and too much involved a panic attack. She nodded, inhaled some more earthy smoke, and put out the embers burning at the end.  
We returned through the sliding door to her kitchen and dining room. Enrica’s house is a terrible mess, her room the only exception. (Well, it’s not spotless, but it’s reasonable for a seventeen-old’s bedroom.) By terrible mess, I mean that it’s fairly clear that no objects are in their place, most likely because they don’t belong to any place at all. It isn’t hoarding bad, but it’s pretty clear no one has ever mopped or wiped down the counters since her family moved in.  
I don’t mind staying at her place, though my house is much cleaner. I spend all of my free time with Enrica, and at my house, my mom would poke her head in every 20 minutes, and we would have to be quiet after 10 pm. It’s not like we’re making out. It’s just irritating.  
Enrica and I are both lesbians. We’ve been best friends since the beginning of senior year, when she picked me up at 11 pm out of nowhere to get tacos on a Saturday. That night, I looked into her brown eyes, shadowed inside her car, and I imagined making out with her. And that’s pretty much been the last sixth months of my life. Life has been rough for a long time, but with Enrica, I have someone to talk to. She hates being alone, and I love being with her all the time, so we have a pretty nice deal worked out.  
In Enrica’s room, the slow rise of my high starts to take a steeper course. Underneath the influence of the drug, I can tell my heart is racing. Being high is like having every thought you could be having, all at once. There’s a spinning in your head that feels like a weather vane on a windy day.  
That spinning is getting too fast, and I’m unable to come back to my sober self. I start crying. Enrica is standing next to the end of her bed, and I go over to her, ignoring whatever she’s saying about her dog. I hug her shoulders and put my face on her shoulder.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she starts to turn around, but I squeeze her. Her face cranes awkwardly to peer at mine. My tears seem to come from deep within my face, and move toward my eyes steadily. Finally, I start sobbing, and really sobbing. “It’s okay,” she says. I nod. She grabs my hand, and guides me to sit on her bed, where she holds my hand tight.  
I focus on breathing, and I remind myself that these panic attacks pass, and weed can be very strong, but doesn’t last long. I get the idea to play music, and I focus on it, trying to calm myself. Enrica watches me until I seem to be stable, but still holds my hand tight as she browses TikTok.  
Once I calm down, I start vibing. I swear I can feel the endorphins glowing in my veins, as if I was shooting the music directly into my blood. Puddles, Enrica’s stupid, but lovable, corgi looks at me from the floor.  
“Hi Puddles!” I coo. “Come here! You are so cute.” She runs and stands with her paws on the edge of the bed. Her tiny legs are too small to bring her up with me. I pet her head, and then her stomach. My hand touching her fur seems to connect us, and I know her. All she wants is this. She pushes her head under my hand. Her only desire in life is to be given human attention. I share my discovery with Enrica immediately.  
“Your dog loves you so much,” I tell her. “All she wants is for you to pet her and talk to her.” I look back to Pebbles’s clueless, slightly bugged-out eyes. “I’m psychically connected to her right now.”  
Enrica gives me an amused half-smile, skepticism crinkling her forehead. “You’re psychically connected to Puddles?”  
“Yes!” I say, completely aware that I’m simply very inebriated. “I swear to you! I can feel her emotions!”  
She smiles at me, her eyelids slightly puffier than usual. I look into her brown eyes and feel warm. Stronger than ever, I feel love. I love her. I love her more than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m aware of a dopey smile curving up on my face. She’s so pretty. Enrica has long, brown hair that she pushes up so there isn’t a part. Her brown eyes match it, which is just my type. She has a square face which frames her nose, mouth, and eyes perfectly. She’s half-Chinese, so her eyes have a beautiful almond shape. Her nose is round and short, just above her full lips, which spread out into a wide, beautiful smile.  
“I bet I could feel your emotions.” I say to her. “Though, I bet it would be a lot more intense. Shit! I wish I could work my way up.” Like, I could try a horse next. Well, maybe a whale since it has a bigger brain. “Just try touching your finger to mine.” Enrica laughs at me a little but gives me her finger.  
I pause. “I’m scared!” She laughs at me, but plays my game.  
“Just go slow, and move away if it’s too much, alright?” She holds out her index finger like E.T..  
When our fingers touch, a sadness begins in my chest. It expands larger than my torso can hold, and I feel the intensity of her life so far. I pull away. “You’re so sad!” I cry out. I get a little sniffly, the sorrow still fading out. “This is so stupid,” I tell her, still somewhat self-aware. Yet, a new gloom of my own takes hold. I briefly think of all I know about her, and the worse events in her life hurt me. I can see her crying alone for years, and since I’ve entered her life, still being unable to be completely vulnerable from years bottling everything up.  
I wish I could take her sadness away, and just feel it for her. I would do that for her. A new idea comes to my mind.  
“Enrica!” I yelp.  
“Day!” she laughs back.  
“What if I can take away your sadness? I always think about how I wish I could feel someone else’s pain for them. Maybe I actually have that ability!” I’m sure I’m just high out of my mind, but I want to try it.  
She agrees, and I decide cuddling would be the best way to do it. We cuddle all the time. My high mind tells me that it’s because we like each other. I have a moment where I’m looking at her, telling her how I’m going to take away all her sadness, where I realize that we are already in love, and all it would take is a confession from one of us to make it happen. Why hasn’t it?  
I break away from these thoughts, and come up with an unrelated one.  
“We should get in our underwear so we have a maximum amount of skin touching,” I tell her. She continues to give me her encouraging open-mouthed smile, but her nod pauses.  
She looks me up and down. “Okay,” she says, “you go first.”  
Without any moment of internal disquiet, I take off my shirt. And then, I take off my pants. She looks at me with amusement and a bit of surprise. Then, she bites her lip in a jokingly sexy manner, giving me a theatric once-over. In spite of myself, I feel a tug of lust in my stomach. We both laugh, and then she takes off her shirt as well. We’ve cuddled in skimpy clothing before, her Nike sports bra no shock to me.  
“Is this good, or should we be even more undressed?” she asks suggestively, fake-biting her lip again. I’m cloudy and silly in the head, so I take off my bra.  
Real shock shows through her eyes for the first time, and she seems unable to stop looking down and up. I laugh and pose for her, but a strange feeling is present in my stomach. It’s the same knot I had when we cuddled for the first time, and during all of our little flirting with one another. My arousal grows as she looks at me. I take off my underwear.  
Enrica looks at my body, then my face, then my body, then my face. A tiny bit of terror begins to emerge in the back of my mind. Then, she tells me with a yearning sigh, “You’re beautiful,” raising her eyebrows in sincerity.  
I pause the tsunami of elation in my chest to ask, “Really?”  
With a breathy chuckle, she confirms, “Yeah.”  
“Like,” I hesitate, “you’re not joking?”  
“No,” she laughs again, her eyes keeping level with mine, no hint of sarcasm.  
I smile, and endorphins flood my chest. I open up my chest more and allow her to see everything. “Your turn,” I say, still afraid to let the water crash down.  
And she takes everything off. Her breasts catch my eyes, and I don’t hesitate to appreciate the way they rest on her chest. She’s a perfect amount of soft, and I love her warm tan skin tone. Heat blossoms between my thighs as I look at her. I know weed makes you hornier, and though Enrica usually has this effect on me, it’s amplified tenfold, and I almost feel like I’m already being stimulated physically.  
We sit a few feet apart from each other, eyes exploring what we’ve imagined for so long. We make eye contact, and she does her lip bite. Then, she puckers her lips and invites me in.  
I raise my eyebrows. “Yeah?” I ask, my excitement beaming through my face. She nods and puckers again.  
I move in closer so my face is close enough to meet hers. I’ve imagined kissing her a million times, never really knowing what it would feel like. We’re already so close, it doesn’t feel new at all.  
I lean in, and her eyes start to close, her lips parting to greet mine. My eyes shut, and her lips send a shock through my body. I move my lips, and hers match my motion, and the contact of the soft, wet inner part of her lip to mine draws a small moan from me. She tilts her lips away from mine to smile, and I try to defend myself.  
“I’m just—the weed—I—ugh.” I put my forehead in my hand. “That’s so embarrassing.”  
Enrica shakes her head and pulls my hand down, and holds it. The same demonstration of affection is now double as warm and lovely, and I sigh. She puckers up again, and I reach for the back of her head with my other hand and kiss her. As our lips push together and slide euphorically, my hand gently tugs on her roots just above her neck, and I pull a little groan out of her. She lets go of my hand and grabs the side of my face, pulling me in with ardor. I give in to her commanding hold and let out a moan I was holding down.  
When we part, we make eye contact so close to each other, her face is blurry. I kiss her one more time, quickly. She pulls me in again and it turns into another fierce kiss. This time, I open my mouth more, and her tongue briefly brushes my mouth. I whimper and do it back, and her breath hitches.  
The hand that warmed my cheek and ear starts to stroke down my neck, and she grabs my breast. I make a small noise of surprise, and her thumb grazes my nipple. I gasp, and she begins to rub, causing me to break our kiss and whisper, “Fuck.”  
A guttural “oh,” leaves her throat and she holds me by the waist and kisses my neck opposite of her hand clutching my breast. I gasp again and let her take control, leaning me back on the bed. Once I’m laying flat, she lays on top of me, one leg between my two. I pull on her arms, and she rubs her thigh into my groin. I moan, and she returns it, resuming her massaging of my nipple.  
“Enrica,” I breathe, and she stops and moves off of me a little.  
She lifts up her head and looks at me, breathing deeply. “Yeah?”  
“Do you want to have sex?”  
Her expression of concern relaxes. “Yes,” she smiles.  
I smile giddily in return and pull her further on top of top of me to hug her. The tsunami crashes down as I realize the confession I had imagined making so long was this easy. The drugs involved are helping things along, but it was always this easy.  
She kisses my cheek as she rises up again and brings her right leg up until her knee divides my legs. Her face changes from warm to serious as she presses, and I moan. She speeds up, and a place in my lower pelvis feels the impact. I moan, “Enrica,” and she grunts lustfully.  
She stops and moves off of me, hands guiding my legs apart. She makes eye contact with me and brings her right hand underneath me, and her puffy eyes ask me “is this okay?” I nod, and let my head flop back, still looking into her eyes. She glances down for a moment, and then one of her fingers finds my vagina and pushes in.  
I instantly moan as her finger moves in, a tingling pleasure coating my skin. She slides it out, then back in, with more pressure, and the pleasure doubles. I close my eyes and let my head lay back, and groan, “uh,” with each entrance. She increases the speed slowly, and her finger finds its way deeper inside of me. My moans grow in volume, and I hear her groan.  
Suddenly, she removes her entire finger, and adds another. My ecstasy becomes all the more intense. She moves more on top of me, and she holds me by the hip. I look up into her eyes and see a dominant intensity that causes me to groan out. Her face reflects the effort of her pounding fingers and mounting sexual fervor.  
She pulls out her fingers and lays next to me, but her hand doesn’t leave its place. Instead, it moves a little higher, and her fingers search for my clitoris. Once she finds the spot, she tests it with a small rub, and I shut my eyes. Opening them again, I see her put her left leg on top of mine, then push my right knee away with her foot, holding me open.  
Her finger moves up and down and I whimper and grab her. She grabs ahold of each hand and uses her free hand to keep them above my head, and continues on. I gasp and writhe. This pleasure is shallower, but more overwhelming. I lose control of myself and high-pitched moans escape me. Enrica only pushes me down harder.  
I open my eyes and her eyes lock on mine with the same ferocity as before, and my legs twitch beneath her.  
Once satisfied, she slides farther down again, and penetrates me. I’m not sure how many fingers she’s using, but I’m too far gone to care. I moan louder and louder, and she pounds me into the bed. I grab a pillow and cover up my face as my yelling moan becomes a scream that I can’t contain. A searing rush collects just below my clit, and I scream Enrica’s name. She slows, and pulls out three fingers. She sits back on her thighs, breathing through a slight smile. She looks at me, heaving for breath and sweating, and says, “You came.”  
“I know,” I laugh breathlessly.  
“No, let me show you,” she says, and though it takes my post-orgasm body a moment, I sit up just enough to see a wet spot on her sheets.  
“Whoops,” I laugh, and flop back down. I close my eyes, appreciating the warmth in my whole body. Enrica lies slightly on top of me, her skin soft against mine. I reach my arms around her and pull her closer with a satisfied sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first post on ao3, so let me know what I can improve/if you'd like to see anything else from me. I'm not sure what to write next, so if you have any requests let me know! As a lesbian, I just want to write about lesbians ahaha


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